by Kelly Jensen
Zed passed the canteen back. Felix set it against the latch on his belt.
“Take a sip,” Zed said, his voice rough, but still commanding.
Felix took a sip.
They didn’t leave the shelter for two hours—when the temperature dropped below broil. Another four hours saw them cresting the last rise. The climb had been long, but not particularly steep. Beyond the summit, however, the ground simply dropped away, as if the planet had been torn open. Far below, a deep ravine stretched in either direction for as far as Felix could see. Across the ravine, another plateau shone purple beneath the last of the diffuse sunlight. If a bridge spanned the gap, they might reach the other side in perhaps half an hour. It was distant enough to be hazy. But there was no bridge and no immediately discernible way down.
Felix didn’t particularly want to find a way down or across. Not right now. He’d rather collapse where they were—and he had a beacon to set up. Zed helped him pull it off his back and reassemble the parts. The remaining sun had all but dipped below the distant horizon by the time Felix opened the holo interface on his bracelet and activated it.
“Well, it’s on. Fuck knows if the signal will penetrate the atmosphere.”
Zed handed him a protein bar. “Take a break. Come watch the sunset with me.”
Despite the fatigue pulling at his limbs and thoughts, Felix smiled. He’d almost forgotten Zed liked to watch the sky—what he called the real sky—from far below the atmosphere. While Felix preferred to observe planets through a view screen, Zed had always liked to look up. How many sunrises, sunsets, eclipses and meteor showers had Zed insisted they watch from the roof of Shepard Academy? Usually it had been all of them sprawled up there on an eclectic array of blankets and cushions. Zed, Felix, Marnie, Ryan and Emma. The Fantastic Five. Their school crew. Friends from the first year to the last. Friends still—except for Emma, who lived on in their memories. Often enough it had just been Felix and Zed sprawled side by side, looking up. Watching the stars, dreaming, sometimes exchanging the simple words friends used to communicate complicated concepts.
Zed had spread a blanket just far enough back from the cliff edge not to experience vertigo. Even then, at school, he’d never wanted to get too close to the edge of the roof. How he could look up and not feel the same distance was beyond Felix. He sat next to Zed and looked out across the ravine. The setting sun painted the thick and hazy atmosphere with brilliant colors. Names hadn’t been invented for half of them. Felix watched, mesmerized, as the colors spread and faded, moving through various shades along the way. When the sun disappeared, he let out a long breath.
“That was...”
“Beautiful,” Zed provided, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.
Zed’s thumb brushed Felix’s cheek and he leaned into the touch. If he could discount the fact they were marooned, the scene might be more than nostalgic. Might even be romantic. Zed thought it was. Felix could tell by the soft and contented hum traveling through his skin.
A spike of anxiety trickled across. Zed leaned forward. “Is that light down there?” He pointed to his left, along the ravine.
Felix blinked into the near dark. Mentally, he tried to fit what might actually be a light into their flight path. Could that be the source of the power signature Zed had detected? Was it a settlement? “Maybe.”
Bigger and smaller questions nagged at him. With the fall of night, the matter of indigenous wildlife cropped up again. They’d seen nothing but the bugs over the course of one complete cycle—about twenty-eight Standard hours—but that didn’t mean there were no larger creatures lurking out there. And what about the reason they were here? The missing Project Dreamweaver data and people other than Zed with the ability to Zone and phase-shift.
Fuck, no wonder Zed felt anxious.
Zed turned to face him, his face lit only by the small ambient glow of the beacon. “Nothing we can do about it tonight.”
“If we live to see tomorrow, maybe we should check it out.”
“We’re going to live to see tomorrow, Flick.”
“What makes you so sure?” Not that Felix doubted him, not really. Nothing had tried to eat them the night before.
“Because the galaxy has gotta be sick of trying to kill us.”
Felix let out a soft snort. “Not sure if that’s comforting or not.”
“Let’s pretend it is.”
Zed kissed him and Felix met the gentle touch, happy to restore the contented hum to Zed’s thoughts. Their lips brushed together once, twice, the contact almost a sweet nuzzle. Then Zed leaned in, deepening the connection, and Felix fell swiftly into a familiar thrall. Zed’s mouth tasted of protein bar and funky water, but beneath lay him. The essence of the man Felix loved and desired.
Heat flushed his skin, from his neck down—quickening the lazy thrum of his pulse. He felt Zed’s hand move around behind his head, fingers poking into his curls and caressing his scalp. Then Zed was encouraging him to lie back. Not to sleep—Zed’s mounting excitement thrummed through the connection. The same tingle that tripped toward Felix’s fingers and toes, through his gut and down into his balls. He’d bet his share of the Chaos Zed was half-hard. He was.
But when Zed had Felix sprawled beneath him on the ground, hips pressed together to confirm they were both challenging the confines of their pants, a quick flare of frustration interrupted what should have been a headlong fall into something more than a kiss. With his broken wrist splinted and strapped to his chest, Zed had only one hand free—and had to use it to hold himself up.
“Fuck.” He shifted awkwardly back to his knees.
Felix didn’t have to touch him to feel the anxiety creeping back in, cooling the flush of desire, tempting his thoughts away from physical release. If they were aboard their ship—or anywhere with something they could use as lube—Felix would roll him back and fuck him stupid. Drive every thought out of his head in the best way he knew.
Instead, he pushed up to his elbows and grabbed Zed’s hand. “Lie down next to me.”
Zed hesitated for just long enough to show how far he’d drifted. “Maybe we should—”
“Lie down, soldier.”
Zed’s mouth crooked up on one side. “Sir, yes, sir.” He lay down on the blanket and tipped his head toward Felix.
Tempted by his beautiful mouth, Felix kissed him again. Zed protested when he pulled away, only to smile as Felix got up, straddled his hips and leaned in for another kiss. No gentle nudges this time. Felix kissed him hard and deep, calling Zed’s tongue out to play almost at once, thrusting past any motion too gentle, nibbling on Zed’s deliciously full lower lip. Zed moaned audibly and physically. Abandoning Zed’s mouth, Felix moved down over his jaw and sucked at his neck. Stubble scraped his lips. The taste of sweat hardened his cock. He’d always liked the smell of a man, the taste that lingered beneath any soap, no matter how fancy.
Zed arched beneath him, as if plucked up from the middle. “Flick.” A deep groan reverberated through his skin.
“Right here.” Bracing himself on one hand, Felix reached down to stroke the hot, hard ridge of Zed’s erection. Zed’s next groan shook him. Grinning, Felix bit at the point of a nipple poking through the SFT of Zed’s shirt. He tongued the small round end of a barbell piercing, tasting dust and leaving a wet spot for the smart fabric to deal with.
“Dear God, don’t stop,” Zed hissed.
“I’m the one giving orders here.”
Zed answered with a choked laugh, pushing into Felix’s hand.
Fuck the lube. If they were aboard a ship, he’d strip Zed of all his clothing, article by article, and pay homage to each centimeter of skin he bared. He’d trace every tattoo and scar with his tongue, leave the impression of his teeth in unexpected places. Reduce Zed to a quivering, incoherent mess. Then he’d suck him off.
/> He settled for flicking the wet fabric over Zed’s nipple, knowing the drag of material across so sensitive a point would feel almost as good as skin against skin. Zed uttered something incoherent. His cock twitched.
Felix gave it a quick squeeze before moving his hand away. “What was that?”
“Wish you could fuck me. Need you.”
You and me both. “Going to suck you so hard you won’t be able to think for a week.” Not about planets that should be deserted, or soldiers that shouldn’t exist.
“Yeeess.” Zed thrust his hips upward.
Felix opened Zed’s old-fashioned belt and tugged his pants down, catching his underwear at the same time. Zed’s cock sprang free. In the muted light of the beacon, it looked purple. Moving to kneel between Zed’s legs, Felix wrapped his fingers around the hot velvety length and leaned in to inhale the musk of Zed’s skin. He lapped at the pearly drop of precome rolling down from the slit. Curled his tongue around the flare of Zed’s glans and sucked.
Zed jerked beneath him. He might have shouted. Felix could only hear the echo of sound, as if it had come from Zed’s mind, through their connection. Maybe it had. He worked Zed’s cock like a fleshy popsicle for a while, knowing the tease would drive his lover to distraction. Zed humped and shuddered. He whimpered and moaned. He found Felix’s ear and tugged. A stream of pleas filled the night.
“More...please, more. Don’t stop...Jesus, Flick. Harder, suck...Oh, so good.”
Every word was music. Every word was Zed distracted from time and space.
Felix sucked harder, gave more. Took as much of Zed’s length into his mouth as he could. He reveled in the familiar nudge at the back of his throat. Swallowed, opened, took more. Beneath him, Zed quaked. He yanked on Felix’s ear. But the movement of his hips was too restrained. He was holding back.
Felix sent another command across their mental connection. “Let go.” He didn’t mean stop tugging on his ear. He meant Give in. Stop thinking and just fuck my mouth.
Zed’s hand cupped the back of his head, fingers slipping through his curls—not caressing this time. Pulling. Felix sent encouraging thoughts. Then, wetting a finger, he snuck it beneath Zed’s tight nuts to stroke at his hole. Zed thrust hard. With a short, sharp cry, he let go. His hips drove up and back. He tightened his hold on Felix’s hair and pulled him closer. He let go...and fucked Felix’s mouth.
Felix would allow no one else to do this to him. To use his mouth roughly, to batter at his throat. But for Zed he was a willing vessel, and that knowledge—and acknowledgement—seeped across the connection both ways. And, just as he’d instructed Zed, Felix let go. Let it happen.
The rhythm of Zed’s hips quickly became erratic. He paused and Felix breathed—and swallowed saliva and precome. Then Zed thrust up a handful of times, grunting and gasping. Felix willed himself to stillness and waited for the inevitable end. Zed came. The hot-cool flesh of his thighs shuddered close to Felix’s mouth as he shot down Felix’s throat. Felix swallowed mindlessly, knowing he’d choke if he stopped to think.
The mental aspect of Zed’s orgasm reached out and caught him, nearly drowning Felix in sensation. Zed always came hard, as if every climax might be his last. Felix didn’t see the colors that invaded Zed’s vision afterward, but he felt them in moments like this, as though the rainbow were merely a side effect of an emotional overload. All the love, all the care. Accepted, treasured, returned.
Zed’s cock was deservedly limp when Felix pulled away to rest his cheek against the crinkly hair of Zed’s bare thigh. Zed patted his forehead, the gesture apathetic. Felix chuckled quietly—the movement of his throat not quite comfortable after the punishment of Zed’s cock. He licked his puffy lips and hoped they had more than a dribble of water left in the flask.
Zed’s voice rumbled through his skin. “Fuck, that was intense. Seeing you down there with your mouth stretched wide.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“How ’bout you?” That was Zed all over. All thought sucked through the end of his cock, but still wondering if his partner might like to get off.
Felix pushed at the half-hard lump in his pants, rearranged it a little. “I’m good.”
“Very good.” The familiar rejoinder had Felix smiling. “But I don’t—”
Felix crawled back up to Zed’s mouth and shut him up with a bitter, salty kiss. Zed stopped talking. The important thing, though, was that their mental connection fell quiet. Zed might be capable of making his lips move, but the only thing on his mind was the taste of his come and the satisfied ache in his empty balls.
Chapter Eight
“Fucking piece of shit!”
The curse jolted Zed from sleep. He snorted and blinked, trying to orient himself. Hard stone, black sky with three hazy moons—and a tense, holo-illuminated figure getting ready to kick the beacon to the ground.
“Don’t break it.” Zed levered himself up with his good hand, grunting softly as the movement jarred his bad wrist.
“Wouldn’t matter. The fucking thing isn’t working.” Rather than kick the beacon itself, Flick kicked gravel at it.
“You sure?”
The holo gave off just enough light for Zed to make out the scowl Flick cast in his direction. “Yes, I’m sure. The signal isn’t penetrating the upper atmosphere. It’s stalling at fifty kilometers up and bouncing back.” He waved his holo as though Zed would be able to make out the readings despite the distance.
“Do we need to get higher?”
Flick stabbed at his bracelet and extinguished the holo interface. “We’re not going to get enough altitude to make a difference. If we could get airborne, sure, but unless you’ve been keeping flight capabilities a secret...” He sighed at Zed’s snort and made his way over to Zed’s side, collapsing ungracefully beside him. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”
“So we need a new plan.” Zed pushed to his feet, trying like hell to keep the discomfort in his wrist to himself. Flick worried too much about him already—he didn’t want to exacerbate that. He retrieved his wallet one-handed and shined the limited light on the ground, unwilling to chance missing the edge of the plateau. Thanks to his messed-up brain chemistry, his eyesight wasn’t all that good in the dark—without the Zone, his vision interpreted shadows as darker than normal and lights brighter, which made getting around at night tricky at times. The three moons, barely visible through the cloud cover, did little to illuminate the landscape.
Looking down into the ravine, he spotted the light that had been there earlier. More than one, actually. They seemed to dance, but Zed figured it was just the stumpy trees waving their spindly leaves in the slight breeze and interfering. Whether it was a settlement or another downed ship, he had no idea. Lifting his wallet, he tried to calculate distance. The app spit back a stupid number to start—one thousand kilometers, which was bullshit—then something a little more reasonable.
“That light is still there. About ten klicks away.”
“The light that might be an unsanctioned experimental laboratory? That one?”
“Hey, why didn’t I think it might be dangerous?” Zed rolled his eyes and returned to the spot they’d picked out for sleeping, then lay back down beside Flick. “If we can’t get a message out with the beacon, we need to find another way. Right?”
Flick grunted, clearly not willing to go along with his thinking just yet.
“It might not be a settlement. Might be a ship.” Flick’s snort told him what he thought of that. Not that Zed could disagree—given that the data trail ended here and the fact that the atmosphere didn’t seem too friendly to ships, it was probably some sort of base. “Look. Getting into occupied territory was what I did during the war.”
“With a full team. Without a broken wrist and head injury.”
“I’ve got you. And my head isn’t bugging me too much anymore.”
Flick arched a brow. After a minute, Zed gave a shrug. “Okay, yes, my wrist is not in the best shape for this. But—” his glare overrode Flick’s attempt to say I told you so or something similar “—we don’t have a whole lot of choice here.”
Flick squirmed and a sound of discomfort left his throat, as though the idea of Zed in danger physically pained him. “We could just wait. Elias will figure out soon that we’re in trouble.”
“And what if he doesn’t? Or what if they’re in trouble too?” Zed regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, and he rushed to cover them. “I’m not saying they are—I mean, we’re the ones who stepped in it. All I’m saying is that we don’t know what’s going on out there and therefore we can’t depend on help arriving.” In time went unspoken.
Things had been relatively easy so far. But they would run out of protein bars in the next day or so. The surface water was potable—with filtering—but God knew if any of the fruit or animals on this planet would be edible. If they didn’t get word out soon, things were going to get a lot more serious very quickly.
Lips pressed into a thin line, Flick snuggled closer. “What are you thinking?”
“We’ll assume it’s a settlement of some sort. Simple recon. If I can identify a comms station, infiltration.”
“Simple.” Flick huffed. Fear cascaded across their connection.
Zed touched the fingers of his good hand to Felix’s crystalline one. “I know. But besides getting a message out, we need to know what’s going on down there.”
Flick made a noncommittal grunt.
Zed took a deep breath, letting calmness fill him, hoping it would trickle across to Flick. “Remember the big Capture the Flag game we did in senior year? Right before graduation?”
Flick’s lips twitched, curving up on one side. “We kicked ass.”
“Yeah. The principle is the same.” Flick had probably run similar exercises in specialist training—but not as many as Zed had, since Flick’s focus had been on ship tech and not ground forces maneuvers. Zed had the experience of practical application of the techniques too. “Go in all sneaky. If there are guards, take one out, grab his weapon, and you’re armed.”